


A Million Shadows [3/10]

by balthesar



Series: A Million Shadows [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balthesar/pseuds/balthesar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With his luck, though, if Owen were ever to get a whole week off, all seven days in a row, that would be the week that Torchwood suddenly had to investigate a strange nymphomanical alien invasion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Million Shadows [3/10]

A week's worth of dishes were stacked in the sink, plates crusted with the remnants of dry beans competing for space with a small mountain of mismatched mugs. Owen didn't give a damn about washing dishes; when he pulled a bird he usually ended up going back to her place, and if not, the straight line from the door to his bedroom didn't intersect the kitchen. It only really seemed worth giving the dishes the cursory scrub once the smell got noticeable, and working in the morgue tended to put it in perspective.

Owen didn't get enough days off, at least by his standards. With his luck, though, if he were ever to get a whole week off, all seven days in a row, _that_ would be the week that Torchwood suddenly had to investigate a strange nymphomanical alien invasion. That solely possessed bikini-wearing Swedish supermodels. In Majorca. Without him.

Still, a Wednesday night off was about as useful as big tits on a nun. Wasn't much point in going out, since all the worthwhile girls wouldn't be clubbing until the weekend. Owen considered suggesting going for pints with Ianto, just to weird him, but he couldn't be sure Ianto wouldn't say yes. Getting called on your bullshit usually made it a lot less fun in Owen's experience.

Instead he had ended up in front of the computer, sports on the telly in the background. In one window he was chatting with Tosh, in the other one a couple of naked blokes were doing filthy things to a busty woman and to each other.

Still better than the awkwardness of the Ianto Pub Experience.

     TOSHIKO: I thought I'd blocked you. LOL

     OWEN: obivously not  
     OWEN: so  
     OWEN: u heard about jack & gwen?

     TOSHIKO: jack's our boss, gwen is the pc

Always trust Tosh to have a smart-arse answer to an otherwise innocent question. Was she even _capable_ of being straightforward, or were there, under all those layers of sarcasm, just deeper layers of sarcasm?

     OWEN: which 1 do u think is on top?

It seemed a pertinent question, given the action in the other window; one of the blokes' heads was bobbing up and down and the blonde bird was doing unnatural contortionist things with her legs. It was hard not to speculate. ... Difficult. It was _difficult._

     TOSHIKO: on top of what?

     OWEN: on top on top. they['re shagging, u know

     TOSHIKO: bollocks they are

What, did she need a big blinky billboard advert just to get the picture?

     OWEN: ok don't believe me

Owen clicked back to the nubile threesome -- the blonde's acrobatics were more helpful now, her being the silicone meat in a sandwich... man-sandwich, a _manwich_ \-- while Toshiko replied. Or rather, didn't reply; maybe all her fingers had suddenly broken. Only thing to explain Tosh's long pause.

     TOSHIKO: what makes you think so?

     OWEN: long nights 2gether, snuggling on teh roof

     TOSHIKO: :  
     TOSHIKO: no way

     OWEN: yes way

Another long pause. Was she watching porn in the background too? ... What sort of porn would Tosh watch? Owen realised he didn't know enough about her to guess -- gentle hairy lesbian porn? Big burly oiled-down blokes? Whips and chains? Did she get off on that schoolgirl tentacle anime stuff?

Well, she _had_ been pretty glued to the screen, when the alien sex fiend was all over Gwen. Hm.

     TOSHIKO: so what? you jealous?

Jealous? Him?

     OWEN: yeah riight  
     OWEN: bet its u whos jealous

A long pause -- much to Owen's dismay, the porn had reached the obligatory attempt at plot again; he hit fast-forward -- and 'Toshiko is typing a message' blinked on in pale grey.

     TOSHIKO: gtg, she's out of the shower

What? Toshiko -- girl -- shower -- what?

     OWEN: tosh u sly old dog, wtf else u keeping from me??

Toshiko signed off abruptly without replying.

The door to the master bath clicked open. "Hey you," a feminine voice purred.

"Hey," Toshiko said with a little smile, turning in the chair to face her. "Good shower?"

"I think I like getting dirty better than I like getting clean," she replied with a smirk. Damp bobbed blonde hair stuck to her cheeks and forehead and her slate-blue eyes sparkled. The purple bath towel she had wrapped around her barely covered her from breasts to bum.

Toshiko stood, her hands on Mary's hips -- "Mary, like the Virgin," she'd said -- and kissed her. "That can be arranged."

It was about damn time she'd gotten some; between her auntie getting sick and Torchwood wasting every good weekend and that niggling little crush on bloody Owen, the last six months had been an unfortunately dry spell. But Jack had given everyone a day off and Toshiko had figured getting dressed up and going out like a normal person might be a nice change. She'd ordered her green apple martini and sat at the bar, people-watching, when a blonde woman with thick black eyeliner and a short leather skirt had leaned in close, so close Toshiko could smell her perfume.

"So the guy over there's been staring at me all evening," Mary had announced by way of greeting. "And I've told him he's wasting his time, but he won't listen. So I've come over to talk to you because I know how this ends. He gets a punch in the neck and I get barred." Mary had leaned back on the bar at this point, gesturing with her hands for emphasis. "And I've already been barred from about twenty pubs, and I don't want to get barred from this one, because they do these nice olives on the tables."

Mary had finally paused for breath. "Uh... right. Okay then," Toshiko had replied, still entirely startled by the stream of consciousness spewed in her direction.

"Cool." Mary had grinned charmingly. She had a kind of reckless charm about her, in Toshiko's opinion of thirty seconds. "Let me buy you a drink."

After several whirlwind rounds of apple martinis for Toshiko and Jack Daniels' and Coke for Mary, they'd ended up in the alley behind the pub. Toshiko's back was cold, pressed against the bricks, but her head was spinning a little as Mary kissed her. Mary'd grabbed her arse and jerked their hips together as Toshiko's hands rubbed up under Mary's short black skirt, and that's when they'd decided they had to get a cab fast. The driver had scowled and rolled his eyes as they necked in the backseat -- Toshiko had bit Mary's lip; Mary had grinned and growled playfully. Two blocks from Toshiko's flat, the driver had yelled at them and kicked them out because Mary had tried to smoke. Mary's raucous laughter had prompted an equally reckless fit of giggles from Toshiko.

Mary kicked off her boots in the lift and pulled Toshiko's top off as they stumbled into and through the door; Toshiko hadn't managed to get Mary's fringed skirt off by the time they hit the bed. Almost two hours later, Toshiko had wrapped herself up in the dressing gown she'd bought the last time she was in Osaka, and Mary had leaned out on the fire escape to smoke a post-coital cigarette before taking a shower.

"Good. I was hoping for a last go before I had to take off." Mary grinned in her daredevil way, showing off her perfect teeth.

Another hour later and the bed was a mess, raspberry sheets rumpled under the cream-colored duvet that had slid halfway off. Mary leaned back, zipping up her boots and finger-combing her nearly dry hair; Toshiko was still only half-dressed, searching the floor for her bra. "I left my number on your nightstand. I wrote it in really big numbers so you couldn't pretend you'd forgotten it or lost it or anything," Mary said cheerfully as Toshiko found her bra and a sock under the bed. "It's been fun. Mmm--" Mary was cut off as Toshiko gave her another kiss. Mary tapped Toshiko on the nose: "I can find my way out. Call me."

"I will," Toshiko promised.

As the front door closed, she crouched on the floor and peered under the bed. That sock had been missing for the better part of two weeks, so who knew what else could be down there? The pair to the sock, mere feet away, for one; a three-day-old copy of _The Daily Mirror_ ; and a small pendant on a leather thong. Toshiko sat back, examining the necklace -- she didn't recognize it, so certainly not a stray from her jewelry box. Three iridescent shell daggers -- that _was_ shell, wasn't it? -- set in some sort of material, halfway between clay and wood. The back was inscribed with half a dozen symbols in a script she didn't recognize; maybe Greek, though a few of the characters were unfamiliar.

Pretty, though. Probably Mary's; another reason to call her without looking totally desperate. Toshiko clasped it around her neck before pulling on an old university tee and going to check her mail.

Toshiko had just opened her mailbox when an elderly woman from the floor below her hobbled by on a Zimmer frame, heading for the front door. _Bloody Londoners_ , the old woman muttered.

"Pardon?" Toshiko asked mildly.

"Didn't say a word, dear," the woman replied, hobbling out the door.

Toshiko frowned, fingering the pendant for a moment, then she shook her head as the dismay passed. She was probably just getting paranoid; Jack's influence, no doubt. She relocked her mailbox and headed upstairs for a shower of her own.


End file.
